Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 299

Isolde's POV

As the sting of Wright's harsh words to that poor girl still echoed in the hall, I felt someone lean close to my ear.

"He's right," Holden whispered, his breath warm against my hair.

I shot him a stern look, but he just smiled and shrugged. "I said what I said."

Jesus, this kid had no filter.

The judges finally filed out, and the tension in the room immediately lifted like someone had opened a pressure valve. That's when my team completely lost it.

"Oh my God!" Lily shrieked, launching herself at me for a bone-crushing hug. "Second place! We fucking did it!"

Cathy grabbed both my hands, spinning me around. "You're amazing, Isolde! Those bikinis were pure art!"

I couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. The pride swelling in my chest felt warm and real—something I'd earned through my own skill, not because of who I knew or what strings might have been pulled. This was mine.

I just smiled, letting their excitement wash over me. The feeling of accomplishment was intoxicating. After all the whispers and accusations about favoritism, I'd proven myself on merit alone.

"Isolde!"

That familiar voice made my heart do something between dropping and flying. I turned to see Daryl Fields walking toward me, and suddenly my stomach was doing gymnastics.

Fuck.

"Daryl!" I managed. "Hi!"

"Congratulations!" He pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you, Daryl," I said as I stepped back, tilting my head to meet his gorgeous face. "And congratulations to you too!"

He turned toward the mannequin displaying my micro bikini, his expression genuinely impressed. "I have to say, your designs completely blew me away."

"I... I don't even know what to say," I stammered, completely tongue-tied. "I'm speechless."

Daryl's smile was warm and understanding. "You don't need to say anything. I'll let you celebrate with your team now. We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Okay," I managed.

As he walked away, I turned back to my team and immediately noticed they were all staring at me with the weirdest expressions. Nobody said a word, but their eyes were practically screaming questions.

Thank God, because I honestly had zero explanations for anyone right now.

Great. Just fucking great.

"Come on," I said to the group, desperately needing to get out of here. "Let's go."

I made sure to grab Holden on our way out. The kid had been eyeing other designers' bikinis all afternoon, and I knew him well enough to know he'd say something completely inappropriate and end up going home with a broken jaw.

"You think I don't know how to keep my mouth shut?" he asked as we walked toward the exit.

"I don't know what to think about you, Holden," I replied honestly. "So I try to avoid trouble. Now you're driving me home."

"When am I not your driver?" He shot me a look. "Oh wait, I know what this is about."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should stop pretending like you're not a total passenger princess. We all know you never drive!"

I stopped walking and stared at him, suddenly exhausted by his attitude. "If you keep attacking me like this, I'm sending you back to your mother and Bruce."

"But I'm just telling the truth," he protested.

*'This boy needs to learn some manners,'* Lyra growled in my head.

"Holden!"

We both turned toward the male voice calling his name.

Fuck. Daryl again. This guy was everywhere.

He approached us with that same easy smile, still looking impeccable in his tailored suit.

"Isolde," he said, turning his attention to me.

"Daryl."

"I see you're heading out," he observed.

"Yes, I am."

"May I drive you home?" His voice was casual, polite. "My car's just over there."

I glanced at Holden, my mind racing. Should I accept? The offer was tempting, but...

Holden was staring at Daryl with a completely blank expression, though I caught a flash of something sharp in his eyes.

What the hell was wrong with this kid? Five seconds ago he was bitching about having to drive me home, and now that someone else offered, he looked pissed off about it.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Fields."

This time, the voice was unmistakable even if I'd been deaf.

Daryl turned toward Ezra, who was walking toward us in a perfectly tailored suit. He stopped right beside me, close enough that his presence felt like a physical force.

"Her alpha is here to take her home," Ezra announced, his voice low and carrying an authority that made every word sound like a command.

I swear my heart stopped beating. I stood frozen, staring at his face like he'd lost his goddamn mind.

Daryl, being the gentleman he was, simply nodded and walked away. But not before I caught a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

"Shall we?" Ezra's hand settled on the small of my back, the touch sending electricity through my entire nervous system.

"What if I say no?" I asked.

"Do you really want to do this here?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Good." He started guiding me toward his black luxury sedan parked nearby.

"Hey!" Holden's voice cut through the air behind us. "Why is everyone treating me like I'm invisible? I'm standing right here, and I'm the one who's supposed to take her home!"

Ezra stopped walking. We both turned to face Holden.

With measured steps, Ezra approached the kid, stopping directly in front of him. The height difference and sheer presence made Holden look tiny in comparison, but the brave little shit didn't blink or back down. He held steady eye contact with the Lycan King himself.

*Holden!* I screamed internally, feeling tense with anxiety in my chest.

"I bet you like fast cars," Ezra said calmly, "driving around the city."

Holden's gaze sharpened, but he didn't respond.

"Silver Moon Group headquarters has an underground garage full of sports cars. Beasts, every one of them. You just need to go pick one out."

Holden took two steps back, his expression softening slightly, though he didn't smile.

"Have the garage manager notified," he said, his voice still defiant.

Ezra smiled—a dangerous, satisfied expression. "Yes, sir."

Without another glance at me, Holden jumped into our car and drove off like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.

"Do you always have to make everything go your way?" I demanded.

"I don't always make things go my way, Isolde," he replied, his voice maddeningly calm.

"That's a fucking lie and you know it."

He closed the distance between us in three steps, standing so close our bodies were almost touching. I could feel his gaze moving across my face, could feel the electricity crackling between us like a live wire.

"If you don't stop arguing with me and get in that car," he said in that low, rough voice that always made my heart race, "I'm going to kiss you right here. Right now. In front of all these photographers."

My stomach flipped. Shit. Photographers. Paparazzi. I hadn't even thought about—

I turned and ran toward his car.

*This man is going to be the death of me.*